Perfection
by BBWMikaTWD
Summary: Takes place during the episode "Alone" starting when Daryl and Beth are sitting in the kitchen of the funeral home before Daryl goes to check on the dog for the second time. Disregards plot from then on. Enjoy! **Spoiler if you haven't watched episode 13 yet!
1. Chance

Takes place during the episode "Alone" starting when Daryl and Beth are sitting in the kitchen of the funeral home before Daryl goes to check on the dog for the second time. Disregards plot from then on.

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Daryl tossed the empty jar of pigs feet back on the table and grabbed another one, mumbling, "this dog gets one more chance," before standing up, almost lazily, and walking toward the front door. Beth couldn't help the grin that spread across her face.

From the other room, Beth could hear Daryl open the door and call for the dog, then the sloshing of what she could only assume were the pigs feet moving about in the liquid as Daryl undoubtedly shook the jar at the dog. The sound of whining floated through the hallway and Beth could almost make out the sound of claws against hardwood floors before the door was lightly re-latched.

A small, white head poked around the corner of the kitchen doorway as Daryl came back into view, a shadow of a smile playing on his face. His eyes were trained on the scruffy dog while he held the jar of pigs feet slightly in front of her, moving slowly back toward the table. Once he reached his recently vacated seat, he tentatively sat back down so as not to frighten off the poor girl.

Beth watched in awe as the abuse-hardened man sat the lid of the jar on the floor and scooped the not-quite-meat out onto it, slowly nudging it toward the dog with the toe of his boot.

"I think she has mange," he whispered once the dog had stopped sniffing the food and began digging in. Daryl looked so helpless that it almost broke Beth's heart. "Don't know if we'll be able ta save 'er. We don't have no way ta treat it."

"Well, hey, she's made it this long, hasn't she? I think she's a fighter," Beth whispered back before tentatively standing up and hobbling to the cabinets to pull out a bowl. She filled it with a couple inches of warm, almost murky water from her canteen and sat it down not too close to the lid of pigs feet so as not to startle the dog. She sniffed it wearily and then began to lap from it greedily.

Daryl watched Beth with furrowed eyebrows and a curious frown. Her gentleness was always so intriguing to him, especially living in the world in which they do now. How can she be so optimistic while the walking dead are roaming outside their doors?

She looked at him then, the biggest smile on her face that he'd seen since they were thrown from the prison, and he melted. This girl, this woman, was perfect, always thinking of how she could help someone else, even a mangy dog in the zombie apocalypse. He didn't know how he'd missed it for so long, her genuine care for everyone else, her perfection.

"So, what should we name her?" Beth asked in the sweetest voice he thinks he's ever heard.

"…Maggie," he replied quietly after a moment's hesitation, breaking eye contact for a slight second to glance at the dog.

Her eyes sparkled.

And then she kissed him.

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Couldn't help myself after that precious Bethyl episode. Freaking out about Beth now, though! Let me know if you think this should be lengthened!

(3/19: just reworded some of the dialogue so it sounded more like Daryl!)


	2. Up

Daryl's eyes went wide as Beth's lips brushed his cheek.

When she pulled back, the most angelic grin he'd ever seen plastered on her face, Daryl blushed. Not only had he been caught off guard by her impromptu display of affection, but he was embarrassed to discover that his pants had become slightly less baggy.

Beth didn't seem to notice, too busy turning back to their new adoptee to realize the affect she'd had on him with such a simple act. Maggie was tentatively approaching Beth now, ears back and tail down, but not in a threatening way, in a nervous way. Beth's hand was outstretched, allowing the dog to come to her. Daryl watched as the scrawny little thing nosed Beth's fingertips before allowing her to place a gentle hand on her head. It seemed the dog had come to realize that Beth couldn't harm a fly.

Daryl scoffed; he already knew that Beth was a saint.

Maggie looked over at Daryl at the noise. Beth looked, too, a questioning twinkle in her eye. Daryl simply shrugged; he didn't need Beth reading his mind, especially not now, while his body was busy involuntarily reacting to aforementioned thoughts.

Daryl stood up suddenly, frightening the poor dog into a cower. "Sorry," he muttered huskily as he tried to slip through the door without her noticing his stiff posture (or little problem). "You can take 'er upstairs with ya and try ta find a place ta sleep that's more comfortable than that damn casket. I'll take watch."

He heard her mumble a distracted "okay" before heading back to the boarded-up front door and peeking outside.

A few hours later, Daryl was beginning to doze off with his back against the wall, crossbow on his lap, when he heard a noise come from upstairs. This put him on edge. Crossbow raised and about to jump up from his spot on the floor, Daryl glimpsed a white tuft of fur in a sliver of moonlight. Maggie wandered over to him and sat, eyes trained with his, ears perked up and alert.

"Well lay down," he finally grumbled. Maggie's tail thumped the floor twice before she slid her front paws forward and placed her head soundly in Daryl's lap, earning an eye roll from the man.

And that's exactly how Beth found them the next morning: Daryl with his head lolled back against the wall, completely conked out; Maggie with her head resting in Daryl's lap, a small spot of drool soaked into Daryl's pant leg.

Unable to bring herself to disturb the peaceful scene before her, Beth took a mental photo of how cute they looked together and walked to the kitchen to see if she could scrounge up something better than pigs feet for breakfast. What she forgot was that she was still wearing what she'd slept in the night before.

Daryl slowly awoke to a damp spot on his leg from where a weight was just lifted. He watched Maggie stretch before walking into the kitchen to where he assumed she would find Beth.

Daryl stood up sleepily, appalled that he had even fallen asleep while he was on watch, and ambled toward the kitchen, where he never in his wildest dreams expected to find what he found. Legs. Creamy, fair legs that went up, up, up for day; up to a loose shirt swaying; up to a perfectly round ass; up to the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, standing on her tiptoes, reaching for something on the top shelf.

Up was the opposite of where he was going once she turned around and caught him staring.

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I want to acknowledge and thank my very first favorite-r: jaimek45 and reviewer: Kitty Rock Feline plus all of my reviewers (and faves and followers) - thanks for so much support already, guys! hope I don't let you down!


	3. Rage

Beth just could not reach that damn jar of peanut butter on the top shelf that they'd somehow missed yesterday. She hopped a little bit, trying to reach that extra inch or so to grab the bliss-in-a-jar that was currently hiding just out of her reach. She heard a noise come from the doorway, almost like a growl, but before she could turn around, she felt a presence appear behind her.

Daryl slowly reached to grab the jar, his pelvis pressed into her hip.

Beth shuddered.

Daryl misinterpreted.

He backed away quickly, dropping the jar on the counter. "I'm goin' huntin'," he mumbled out and was out the door before Beth could even turn around.

Beth sighed and leaned against the counter, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Then she looked down. She was only wearing a t-shirt and underwear! How could she have been so stupid? Daryl was probably incredibly uncomfortable! What was wrong with her? No wonder he got out of here as fast as he could…

Beth looked at Maggie; Maggie looked back. "You want some peanut butter?" Maggie wagged her tail.

Daryl leaned against the outside of the front door. Why did he do that? Of course she would be uncomfortable with him that close to her! Their talk on the porch of that distillery house hadn't meant anything other than what it was: a pep-talk. A hope-talk, actually. She didn't want anything more to do with him than to keep him around for protection and a food source.

He growled, for a completely different reason this time, and pushed off the door, heading toward the woods surrounding the mortuary, crossbow slung across his back.

Beth was sitting on the front porch of the funeral home, lounged back in a rickety chair, feet propped against the railing, Maggie laying beside her playing look-out. It was around mid-afternoon based on where the sun was in the sky, and by now Beth had had a lot of time to stew over Daryl's impromptu exit. And she. was. pissed.

To say the least.

Who did he think he was? Did he really think he could just up and leave like that? What if the person who was staying here came back? What if she was kidnapped!? Okay, that may be over doing it a little. No way was she gonna get kidnapped. But seriously, Daryl! How on earth would he think it's okay to just leave?

Just then, Maggie stood up. It seemed she had learned quite some time ago that barking and the apocalypse totally don't mesh well. She was looking at a figure walking out of the forest about 300 yards to their left. The figure looked distinctly Daryl-esque: there was a crossbow gripped loosely in his right hand, a couple squirrels hanging from his belt, and his mop of dirty brown hair glistened as the sun reflected off the greasiness of it. Definitely Daryl.

He looked tired, from where Beth sat; he was walking pretty slowly. Well, good! He deserves to be tired after rushing out of here with no breakfast nor explanation.

She let him get closer, just a handful of yards away from the porch, before standing up, walking down the steps, and crossing her arms, Maggie sitting next to her, whining.

When he was close enough, Beth raised her pointer finger, her anger making her quiver, and whisper-shouted, "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" She jabbed her finger into his chest. He winced. When she pulled it back, her finger was covered in blood. Beth's rage dissipated, replaced with horror.

"Oh my God, Daryl! What the fuck _happened_?"

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Couldn't help myself with that bit of irony about Beth being kidnapped lol hope you enjoyed! Reviews make my life better :)


	4. Scars

Beth hurriedly looped Daryl's right arm over her shoulder while Maggie continued to whine next to them. She all but dragged Daryl into the house, trying not to jostle him too much since she didn't know the extent of his injuries. Daryl groaned as Beth gently placed him on the couch and removed the crossbow from his grip and squirrels from his belt.

While Beth ran around gathering up water, towels, and their backpack full of medicine and first aid supplies, Maggie sat at Daryl's feet, looking up at him with sad, questioning eyes. It seemed she could sense the gravity of the situation and was as concerned about her savior as Beth was.

Daryl groaned again as Beth crouched next to him and began removing his shirt. Focusing on nothing but his injuries, Beth made quick work of removing the fabric and assessing the damage. There appeared to be a long laceration across his left pectoral muscle, spanning from the base of the shoulder to just above the nipple. There were also a few scratches littering the right side of his neck and face. Praying to her God almighty that the scratches were not caused by walkers, she set to work on the gash.

Daryl's silence was beginning to worry her as she cleaned and surveyed the wound. Wanting to break said silence, she informed in, "This is going to need stitches," in a light voice. He just grunted. "It's gonna hurt, but probably not as much as that did," she gestured to the gash. "I don't have anything to give you for it, though."

He grunted again. "S'fine. Jus' do it."

Concern laced her eyes as she pursed her lips and threaded the needle. She didn't want to cause him any more pain, but she couldn't leave the wound open and let it get infected. Reassured by his slight nod when she looked at him, she began stitching, just the way her daddy had taught her, from the middle, out, then criss-crossing back to the other end, and meeting back in the middle.

In her focus, she hadn't noticed the way Daryl's hooded eyes were trained on the tip of her tongue that was poking out between her teeth in concentration, nor the way his fingers gripped the arm of the couch, not when she pushed the needle through, but every time her fingers brushed his skin.

Once she was finished, she tied and cut the thread and began cleaning the scratches on his neck and face, finally getting close enough to notice that they were in fact not made from fingers, but from what appeared to be branches or thorns, since they were thin and irritated. And some weren't even scratches at all; some were scars, obviously very old, and very shallow.

She ran her fingers over them very lightly, glancing up at Daryl through her eyelashes. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be leaning into her touch.

She'd never seen Daryl this vulnerable, and it broke her heart. Whoever had inflicted these scars had left behind internal scars, too. No wonder Daryl was always so guarded around them all at the prison, never taking his shirt off or letting anyone get close enough to break down his walls. She couldn't imagine the scars that must litter his back. Maybe one day he would trust her enough to show them to her and open up about them, but today she would not push it.

She pressed a light kiss to his cheek before standing and beginning to clean up. Before leaving the room, she whispered, "Get some rest, we can talk about what happened tomorrow. Just reassure me: you didn't get bit or scratched by a walker, right?"

He shook his head in confirmation and proceeded to fall asleep almost immediately.

While Beth stood at the kitchen window, watching the sun sinking into the sky, she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

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I'm still reeling from the death of Allison on Teen Wolf last night! Reviews will make me feel better :)


	5. Smile

Daryl woke up to the smell of cooking meat and a horrible pain in his chest.

"Mornin', sleepy head," Beth said from the kitchen doorway, bright smile on her face. "I had ta cook those squirrels ya brought back so they didn't go ta waste. Ya hungry?"

Daryl nodded as his stomach grumbled. He tried to sit up from the couch he'd been laying on, but the slightest movement pulled on his stitches.

Beth noticed him wince and rushed to his side. She placed a hand over his heart, over the stitches, and quietly warned, "Careful, ya don't wanna tear those." Her other hand found his back, helping lead him into a sitting position. If she felt the scars on his back, she didn't show it, and for that Daryl was grateful.

By the time she got him standing, he was pushing her hands away, grumbling, "I can walk, damnit." A slight smile appeared on her face, recognizing his way of saying 'thank you.'

"Of course," she agreed, leading him to the kitchen and keeping watch out of the corner of her eye to be sure he didn't stumble. She pulled out his chair at the table for him and sat a glass of coke in front of him. He looked at her, confused; they'd agreed to not open those bottles unless they needed to. Pop was a luxury now. "It's a special occasion," she jested, "you're not dead!"

He chuckled lightly as her beautiful smile covered her face again. She disappeared behind him for a moment and he tensed, hoping she wouldn't look at his back, for he was still shirtless. She returned shortly and sat a plate of charred squirrel down in front of him.

"I was able ta get a fire goin' in that fireplace in the basement. Just don't think about what used ta be cooked in there." Sometimes he was able to forget they were living in a mortuary…then she went and said something like that.

"Where'd ya get the wood?" He asked, slightly alarmed.

She placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder and bent down to press a kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry, I was careful. I had Mags with me." She disappeared behind him again to fix a plate for herself and then sat down in her seat next to him.

They ate in silence for what seemed like hours, but for what could have only been minutes, before she cleared her throat and asked what he knew she'd been stewing over for hours: "So, what happened?"

He sighed, "I was huntin' a couple o' miles north o' here, trackin' a deer, when a dozen or so geeks stumbled out a clump o' trees next ta me. They were slow, hadn't eaten in a while, so they weren't no problem ta take out. But a fresh one came chargin' at me as I put the last'un down. I fell int'a thorn bush, him on top o' me and my knife. Had ta slice my chest open just ta get the knife out 'fore I stabbed that sumbitch in the head."

Beth's wide, doe-like eyes drooped shut for a minute while she breathed deeply. When she opened her eyes again, there was a fierceness in them as she breathed, "thank God you're alright," and a smile lit up her face again.

His pants were suddenly just a little tighter. That smile was going to be the death of him.

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Only 6 reviews on the last chapter? I'm disappointed guys…maybe I'll start withholding updates… JK lol Shout out to my 100th story alert follower: Serious Bunburyist. I hope Daryl wasn't too OOC in this for y'all, but it's hard to write monologues for him since he rarely talks that much. I also am trying to write them so that your brain naturally hears the southern drawl when you read it. But seriously, more reviews will bring faster updates!


	6. Flip

When the sun was at its highest point in the sky that day, Daryl found himself lounging on the front porch of the funeral home, feet propped up on the railing like Beth's had been when he'd stumbled back onto the property, and Maggie standing guard next to him. Beth was wandering the graveyard with his crossbow, shooting at self-apponited targets every now and then.

Daryl sat in the shade, hand on Maggie's head, pondering his recent reactions to Beth. It's not like he hadn't noticed at the prison that she was a pretty girl, but now that they were the only remaining members of the group, he had noticed her mature quite a bit.

She looked good in her work boots and denim shorts, handling his crossbow with an ease that looked almost professional. If he didn't know any better, he would've guessed she'd been able to shoot it since she was a kid. _She is a kid,_ he reminded himself. _Ain't no way she's older than 17._ He couldn't help the way his eyes followed her curves just then while she bent down to inspect something on the ground.

At the exact moment that he was internally kicking himself for looking, she glanced up and caught his eye. She jogged back over to the porch, deep grooves forming a frown on her face. Oh no, now he was going to get it. Maggie stood up as Beth approached.

But Daryl's embarrassment at being caught staring changed to anxiety at what she said next.

"I found tire tracks over by that headstone with the angel on it. They seem fresh."

Daryl was up and out of his seat, stalking toward said headstone before she could say anything else. His two girls followed close behind.

When he reached the place that Beth had just been inspecting, he bent down, wincing while trying to ignore the pain across his chest, and felt the ground in which the treads were etched. It was damp and soft, probably from the sprinkling of rain Beth had mentioned from the night before.

"Git back inside," he grunted out while looking around. Daryl ushered his girls back inside and slammed the door behind them, reinstalling their lock system of 2x4s and 3 inch nails.

Beth was standing in the doorway that lead to the kitchen with a worried look on her face. He squeezed her arm in a not-quite-reassuring way and walked past her into the kitchen. She followed and joined him at the table.

His head was in his hands. "This place ain't safe no more." It was just barely a whisper, almost too soft to be heard, like he was speaking a though out loud that he really didn't want her to hear.

"We don't know that they're bad people, Daryl. And maybe it was from before we got here and we just didn't notice 'em before." He shook his head in disbelief. "Daryl, let's just wait it out and see if they come back. Maybe they noticed that it's occupied and moved on," she offered, hope apparent in her voice.

He looked up at her, then; his eyes were red like he was forcing himself not to show too much emotion in front of her. She'd never seen him this vulnerable. Grabbing his hand that lay on the table, she tried to reassure him, "We'll be fine."

His eyes bore into hers, unwavering. "I will keep you safe."

Beth's stomach flipped.

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Y'all should start giving me one-word ideas for upcoming chapter titles that I can base the chapters off. I'll pick my favorite one each time and dedicate the chapter to ya! :) I'm kinda blocked right now, so I really do need your help! I'll also give a shout out to my 100th reviewer since we already passed the 50th mark…so review! lol

New episode tonight! So pumped!


	7. Surprise

Beth and Daryl had spent the entire afternoon and well into the evening drawing up plans: escape plans, battle plans, peace plans (of which the final was suggested and formulated solitarily by Beth). She refused to let Daryl drag her away from the first home they'd had since the prison; she wanted to stand and fight for it.

Daryl decided to allow Beth that comfort for the sake of her happiness, even though there was a high likeliness that it could cost one or both of them their lives.

Their plan was to sit and wait; they would wait for the car to return, keep lookout around the clock, and when the car returned, they would attack. "No," Beth had said, "not attack; approach." Right, they would _approach_ the car, weapons raised, and demand the group to exit.

But the car never returned. Daryl and Beth waited for days, holed up in the kitchen, with someone always keeping an eye out the window. Maggie had taken to lying on the couch with her head over the back of it, staring out the cracks in the boards covering the back windows. The funeral home was always well guarded.

On the third day of keeping watch, Beth was getting bored. The other group had obviously decided that the place was occupied and they didn't want to fight for it. Either that or they had just taken a look at it and decided it wasn't good enough for what they needed. Beth was relieved to say the least. This way, they wouldn't have to let strangers into their little family of three.

Beth walked out of the kitchen from where she was on watch and into the "living room," as they had dubbed the little reception area with the couch. If they were going to live here, they might as well start treating it like a home.

Daryl was splayed out on the couch with Maggie's head in his lap, absentmindedly running his hand across it. As Beth entered the room, Daryl's eyes found hers, worried as to why she was abandoning her post.

"I don't think they're comin' back, Dar."

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. She approached him tentatively and knelt next to him, placing her hand on his knee. "Are you alright? Does your chest hurt too bad?" He shook his head. "Can I take a look at it?"

His eyes opened and he looked at her. He had always been weary about letting people see him with his shirt off, but she had already seen him and hadn't said anything. Anyway, she only wanted to check on the wound and make sure it was healing right and wasn't infected. His eyes held hers for a couple beats before he finally began unbuttoning the cut-off and moving it away from his heart.

She reached her hand out and lightly pulled the tape and gauze away from the wound. It seemed to be healing nicely; the stitches could probably come out in a few days. The corners of Beth's mouth turned up slightly as she looked at Daryl and nodded. Their eyes stayed glued together as her fingertips trailed over the skin above his heart.

His slight wince was almost unnoticeable. Almost. Thinking she'd hurt him, she went to pull her hand away, but his reached out and grabbed hers, stilling all movement. "Don't stop," he rasped out. Her eyes widened a little as her hand went slack in his. Beth didn't know who was moving, but somehow she and Daryl were very slowly drawing closer to each other.

All of a sudden, Maggie was off the couch, sprinting to the front door with a low growl. Beth and Daryl sprang apart and reached for their weapons simultaneously, creeping toward the door. Daryl peeked through the spaces between the boards. Immediately he began ripping the nails out of the boards holding the door shut. Beth could only stand there, confused and anxious.

Daryl finally removed the last obstruction and thrust the door open.

Carol was standing there, pale and bleeding, with a crying Judith in her arms. "Surprise," she whispered with a small smile before falling against the doorframe.

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So obviously this doesn't follow the story line after about halfway through the episode "Alone," and I wanted to try to keep some of the story line of the other characters, but after reading the review with the title that gave me this idea, I couldn't help what just happened! And this chapter is about 200 words longer than the others, so I hope it satisfies you guys.

So here's my shout out to **AGhostsWhisper**,who was the first reviewer for chapter 6! Immediately after reading your title choice of **Surprise**, this popped into my head and I started writing right after Talking Dead ended! So lots of cookies (with a side of Daryl) for you!

What should my next chapter title be? (No S words this time because 3 of my chapters now start with S lol) And previous suggestions may continue to be considered.


	8. Fall

Daryl and Beth reached out simultaneously to grab at the people in front of them. Daryl's arm found its way around Carol's waist and Beth's hands plucked Judith out of Carol's failing arms. A backpack dropped to the floor of the porch, but neither Beth nor Daryl really seemed to notice it. Beth kicked the door shut and quickly followed closely behind Daryl to the living room where he deposited Carol on the couch and ran for towels.

Beth shifted Judith to her left hip so that her dominant hand would be free. She knelt down next to the bleeding woman and began removing her shirt to find the wound. Daryl stumbled back into the room, towel in hand, when he froze.

Beth was looking up at him from the floor, tears streaming down her face. It was then that Daryl noticed the almost too round wound; the almost too perfect chunk of skin missing from her side.

It was a bite.

He knew it, Beth knew it, and Carol sure as hell knew it, too. There was nothing they could do.

Daryl sunk down to his knees as well, towel falling to the floor, his hands reaching for Carol's. Tears were beginning to gather in the hunter's eyes, like he didn't want to let them fall, yet didn't know how to stop them.

Beth stood up, muttered something about giving them some time alone to talk, kissed Carol's forehead and squeezed her hand, silent tears still rolling, before walking into the kitchen with Baby Judith. Beth rocked her little princess back and forth, trying to get her to stop crying. And then she remembered the backpack on the front porch.

Beth peaked out the window of the kitchen and spotted the bag; she also spotted a couple walkers that must've follow Carol and Judith milling around the steps of the porch. There was no way she could open the front door and get the bag without them noticing her and crowding the house.

Daryl's crossbow had been thrown on the table when he'd come to find towels. As the idea formulated in Beth's mind, she began laying the four kitchen chairs that had been surrounding the table on their sides to make a pen for Judith. Placing the girl inside the grouping of chairs, she whispered, "stay here, sweetheart," grabbed the crossbow off the table, and headed to the front door.

Making sure the bow was loaded, Beth wrenched the door open, quickly lined up her first shot, and let the arrow fly. It sunk right into the closest walker's right eye socket. She skirted out to grab the bag and slung it over her shoulder, but she just barely had enough time to reload the bow and line up the next shot. She let the second arrow fly…

And it missed by an inch.

By this time, she really didn't have time to reload, and she'd left her knife sitting by the couch Carol was lying on. The walker was nearly on top of her when she tried to swing the crossbow up to its head like she'd seen Daryl do countless times, but she wasn't quite strong enough. Its grimy hands went for her neck and she kicked hard. She heard a bone break, but that only sent the walker falling into her faster.

And then Daryl was there, catching her as she fell and slamming the knife she'd left next to Carol into the walker's head. Daryl pulled her back inside and nearly slammed the door shut before hammering one board across it, knowing that they would need to reopen it as soon as Carol…_moved on_.

Daryl and Beth looked at each other and held a conversation with their eyes. Daryl nodded and went back to Carol. Beth figured he would be angry, for multiple reasons, but he seemed to understand. That, or he was just drained. Probably the latter, she decided.

She walked back to the kitchen and opened the backpack, finding plenty of formula, two baby bottles, a small blanket, some almost-empty bottles of tylenol, ibuprofen, and antibiotics, multiple band-aids, and a few granola bars. Carol seemed to have been doing well for herself and Judith. Mixing up a bottle of formula for Judith and gathering the girl up into her arms, Beth made her way back into the living room to say her goodbyes to the best woman and mother she had met since her own had died.

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Only need 14 more reviews to reach 100! And here's my shout out to **Caitiann**! Bet you didn't think this was how I would incorporate the word **Fall**! Hope y'all enjoyed :) Next chapter title ideas?


	9. Goodbye

Beth walked into the living room, Judith in her arms, happily sucking on her bottle, not worried that she would never see her mother-figure after today; not a care at all that the only people she would have left were a hard old redneck and a teenage girl.

Daryl was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, holding Carol's hand that fell lazily over the side. She was turned in a way that you couldn't see her bite and they looked almost normal; almost like a couple in love. A surge of jealousy flashed through Beth for a moment before the shook it off and a sad smile covered her face.

Carol looked up at her and smiled back, reaching out her other hand. Beth took it gladly and sat on the edge of the couch next to her, holding Judith in her lap.

Both Daryl and Beth looked expectantly at Carol as she quietly cleared her throat. When she finally spoke, they had to strain to hear her whisper. "I was with Tyreese, Mika, and Lizzie. I stumbled upon them when they we runnin' after the prison fell. The five of us were walking the rail line, heading to Terminus—" Beth and Daryl looked at each other, confused at what she'd just said, wondering if they'd heard her right, but neither interrupted her to ask.

"—when we found an old pecan farm with a nice house. We decided to stay for a while, maybe make it a home. But then Lizzie…and Mika… got bit. Tyreese and I decided we had to move on, keep going. But back on the road was no better. We were able to find a car. Drove here, actually, but noticed it was occupied and didn't want a fight. After the herd…I thought maybe the people living here would be kind enough to take in an innocent baby. I had to at least give her a chance…" Carol trailed off.

There were tears running down both of the women's faces. Even Daryl's eyes were filling up, threatening to spill over. Beth squeezed Carol's hand very tightly, afraid that if she let go, Carol would drift away from her. Carol looked at her then, "You will take care of her, right? She needs good parents and I have absolute faith in you two."

Beth choked back a sob and nodded her head fervently. Daryl's eyes were on the floor, and she suspected he'd finally succumbed to the tears.

Carol's eyes were beginning to drift closed and her grip was loosening in both Beth and Daryl's hands. "Thank you…love you…" fell softly from her lips.

Daryl jumped up and kicked the wall when her chest went still. Maggie, who had been weary of the new guest, peaked her head around the doorway from the kitchen, cowering as she watched Daryl open up his knuckles against the wall, staining it red.

Beth sat perfectly still for a moment. Finally, she stood, placed a sheet over Carol's lifeless body, and carried Judith into the casket room, searching for the right one. She settled on a large oak one, and it seemed Daryl was having the same thoughts as Beth, for he was already outside with a shovel, digging his best friend's grave.

Hours later, Daryl reentered the funeral home looking exhausted. He helped Beth carry Carol's casket to the living room while Judith napped in the one he'd slept in the first night. After easing a knife through the sheet and then carefully placing Carol into her eternal bed, they closed the top and maneuvered it outside. The grave was shallow and they were able to place her inside without much of a drop, and Daryl shoveled the freshly dug up earth back into the hole, covering the polished oak.

After minutes of just standing there looking after he'd finished, Beth put her hand in Daryl's, leaned her head against his arm, and whispered, "Goodbye, Mama."

* * *

Shout out to **Caitiann** again for being my 100th reviewer! Hell yea, girl, you're kickin' ass! lol Hope you aren't too upset with me after this, but I needed to get Judith to Beth and Daryl, and this was the only way I could come up with. Shout out to **xxz0eyxx **for giving us the chapter title **Goodbye**. So now, what should chapter 10 be titled? :)))


	10. Lost

Daryl led Beth back into their home and to the room where Maggie was keeping watch over Judith's still-sleeping form. His hand never left hers. They sat down on the couch together and Beth fell against Daryl. Silent tears were still making their way down her face as Maggie hopped up onto the couch next to her and laid her head in Beth's lap.

Daryl hadn't said anything, hadn't even noticed he was now sitting on the couch, a small hand still clinging to his. Daryl's mind was wandering; he was getting lost in his own thoughts. He wasn't accepting that just when he'd gotten his best friend back, he'd lost her again.

But no, he still had Beth. And now he had Lil' Asskicker back. And he damn sure was going to protect them.

Beth had dozed off, her hand stilling on Maggie's head and her own head falling onto Daryl's shoulder. They sat that way for a long while until Judith awoke.

Daryl pulled his hand from Beth's and gently placed her head on the sofa as he stood and then crossed the room to the casket where his Lil' Asskicker was fussing. He reached into the casket and plucked the baby out, propped her on his right hip so as not to aggravate his wound, and carried her into the kitchen to make a bottle of formula.

As he fed the quickly growing baby in his arms, Daryl didn't notice Beth walk up to the doorway behind him. She leaned against the frame, arms crossed against her chest, small smile playing on her lips. At this point Judith was refusing the bottle anymore and Daryl was slowly rocking her, swaying back and forth, patting her back lightly.

Not wanting her to spit up on his beloved vest, Beth walked forward, grabbed a towel from next to the sink, and placed it on his shoulder. His eyes met hers in a silent thank you, not appearing to be startled even though she could've sworn he hadn't known she was there.

Beth leaned against the counter as Daryl continued to sway and stare out the half boarded-up window where night had befallen. She was watching him intently. He looked so at peace with Judith; so unaware and unaffected by everything that was going on. "You look good with her," tinkled her voice, as his eyes shifted to hers.

He scoffed and went back to looking out the dark window, still gently rocking the baby. Beth smiled knowingly at the small grin that threatened to overcome his lips. "Come on," she whispered and took his free hand, leading him back to the couch in the other room.

He slumped down, cradling baby Judith in his lap, and Beth curled up next to him, one hand on his good shoulder, the other running through the little girl's wispy hair.

Daryl was acutely aware of how, even though neither of them had bathed since they left the prison, her resolutely-Beth scent merely made him more drawn to her; he was even more acutely aware of her eyelashes that rubbed against his cheek every time she blinked; he was most acutely aware of the rise and fall of Beth's chest as it rubbed against his arm.

Daryl tried to stifle a yawn after Judith's little one. He was immensely worn after the events of the day; they all were. The darkness outside was casting eery shadows inside where only one candle was lit so as not to attract unwanted attention.

Beth didn't miss the show of exhaustion. She pulled little Judith out of the hunter's arms, stood up, and reached out her free hand. He sent her a confused look and she rolled her eyes, shaking her hand a little impatiently to get him to take it. He eventually did and she led him to the stairs by the front door, never releasing his hand, blowing out the candle as she passed it.

Quietly, she said, "I found one of those beds that pulls down from the wall up here. We missed it when we did the first sweep, but it's real comfy."

"I hav'ta keep watch," he replied while stifling another yawn.

"Dar, it's locked up tight down there. We deserve a night of real rest."

He simply nodded and continued to allow himself to be pulled upstairs to the bedroom. Beth had figured he would've put up a greater fight; he must really be exhausted.

When they entered the room, Daryl went to pull down the bed where Beth had pointed, and after setting Judith on it, she grabbed two pillows from a dresser drawer, a large comforter blanket, and a smaller fleece blanket. She made a small nest in between the two pillows with the fleece blanket and placed Judith in it. Daryl was standing awkwardly next to the bed when Beth looked up after tossing the comforter over it.

"Ya sure ya don't mind sharin'? 'Cause I can sleep on the couch down—"

"Lay down, Daryl."

He obliged. They both settled onto the bed on either side of the now-sleeping Judith. Daryl was laying on his back, right hand tucked behind his head, left draped across the mattress behind Judith's and Beth's heads. Beth was curled up on her side, head laying on her right arm, her left arm holding Judith's little hand. They had all drifted off to sleep in seconds.

* * *

Sorry this took so long, I've been suuuuper busy, and I spent the weekend in North Carolina on a college visit, which is no excuse I know. But I hope y'all enjoyed it! I tried to make it longer for you guys since I owe you about 3 chapters for the past week. How about that season finale last week, though! Where the hell is Beth? So like I've said before, I consider all previously posted chapter title ideas for all chapters so that I have a nice selection, and this time I went with **Lost** from **Rival lover**! :) Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I will try to get one up soon…don't hate me, guys, 'cause I love all of you!


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